


Solace

by ashcat



Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-23
Updated: 2010-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-09 02:45:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/82190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashcat/pseuds/ashcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes honesty isn't the best policy. For the prompt: I'd love to say this to your face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solace

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to lovefanfiction for all of her support, encouragement, and beta! Thank you to Hoosierbitch as well for her cheerleading :)

It'd be nice to get it off his chest. To just whisper the words, even if he waited until Neal was sleeping to do it. But he wouldn't, couldn't. He knew that Neal faked sleep better than anyone he'd ever encountered and the potential explosion, the utter betrayal that'd be in Neal's eyes if he heard negated any relief he'd feel from clearing his conscience.

He had just been so lonely at the time. Sure, he and Neal hadn't been joined at the hip in ages, not since they had been together in every way. Back when Neal was just a dark haired kid picking pockets in Times Square and slumming in Hell's Kitchen. Then, he'd stroked Neal's high cheek bones, pronounced in a way that indicated hunger more than beauty; felt those luscious full lips wrapped around his cock with bright blue eyes looking up at him, challenging him the whole time. He'd known that the kid was special. That he was someone he wanted to have around for a long time. And he had him, even if he no longer was allowed to sink into the delicious heat of his body, denied the joy of caressing his pert ass while driving home... well, at least he had Neal's quicksilver mind, his friendship. That's what mattered.

But prison, it took it all away. There was no Neal then... not in flesh or spirit. Sure, he could suffer the indignities and try to see Neal through legitimate channels or he could bribe the guards to avoid the worst of it, but in the end what would he gain? A mirage of his former lover, his best friend, sitting there in a gaudy orange jumpsuit, hair limp and eyes lost their shine. Caught, broken; his Neal no more.

So he'd stayed away. Ignoring the thinly coded messages he received requesting his presence.

He didn't feel guilty at the time about how he took solace in his loss. When he was plunging into her body, his hand caught in her silky dark hair, straight and long where it should have been short with wild curls. He took pleasure from her body, enjoyed her blue eyes watching him even if they were the wrong shade of blue, luminescent with a hint of cruelty where Neal's had only shined with his joie de vivre. But he hadn't kissed her, didn't want to taint his lips. He knew that she'd never taste like Neal, that her thin lips wouldn't compare to how plump and lush his were. But she was his link, she had _seen_ Neal. She visited him every week. And so he met with her at the same interval, enjoying her as a connection to _him_, despite knowing that he was only one of many who were partaking of her charms. Though to be fair, neither Neal or Kate had ever been big on fidelity when it wasn't convenient.

So Mozzie holds his silence another day, watching Neal pine for a faithless whore and hoping he never finds out that he'd been one of her many patrons.


End file.
